<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Ghost Beach by agent_cupcake</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27070084">Ghost Beach</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_cupcake/pseuds/agent_cupcake'>agent_cupcake</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Goosebumps [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Choking, Come Inflation, F/M, Voyeurism, siren au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 00:34:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27070084</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_cupcake/pseuds/agent_cupcake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sylvain grinned, his teeth shining in the moonlight. “You’d think I’d get bored of it after all this time,” he said, “but I gotta admit that it really does something to me when cute girls like you are so obedient for me.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sylvain Jose Gautier/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Goosebumps [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1967758</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>131</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ghost Beach</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
<p></p><div class=""><p>Burning, breathing, bursting panic —you woke yourself up with a violent fit of uncontrollable coughing, wrenching yourself to your side while trying to expel water from your aching lungs through a throat rough with the tangy bite of salt.</p></div><div class=""><p>“Hey! Hey, you’re okay! Just breathe!”</p></div><div class=""><p>The words barely registered, although they didn’t invite a feeling of anger towards the speaker. If you could breathe, you would! But you couldn’t! You were choking, drowning, terrified, your lungs seizing in your chest.</p></div><div class=""><p>Someone rubbed your back as the episode worked through you, your breathing eventually slowing into a shallow gasp as you gagged and managed a few more weak coughs. Dizzy, you rolled onto your back. A cruel headache thumped in your temple, your chest burning, and stomach heaving. It occurred to you that the coughing hadn’t been necessary, as you hadn’t actually wretched up any water. You’d been responding to the sensation of water, a memory.</p></div><div class=""><p>Blinking bleary eyes, you tried to get your bearings as you stared upwards. A full moon in a cloudless sky, a million tiny stars twinkling in the endless dark. Around you, the sound of water. Beneath you, an uncomfortable surface. You were wet. An oceanic breeze played across your damn skin, calling chills to crawl over the expanse of exposed flesh. Someone hovered above you, his expression drawn with worry.</p></div><div class=""><p>Someone.</p></div><div class=""><p>Someone you didn’t know. A stranger.</p></div><div class=""><p>You shot upright, paying for it a moment later as your head spun with a violent heave of nauseous vertigo. Panic rose up again, another wave of terror and confusion.</p></div><div class=""><p>“Hey,” he said again. A strong arm supported you before you could fall prone, almost cradling you against a decidedly bare chest. “Don’t get all worked up and pass out on me again, okay? Here, breathe with me. In-” The man made the sound of an exaggerated inhale as he pulled in a theatrical breath. “And out.” His chest collapsed with the equally exaggerated exhale, the air puffing away a few drying strands of hair. Recognizing the exercise and unable to do much else, you followed his guide and tried to clear your head with steady breaths.</p></div><div class=""><p>Even when your breathing was steady, your recollection was vague and confused, your thoughts blurry. He was holding you closely, this man. A part of you felt as if you recognized him, but another was certain you’d never seen him before in your life.</p></div><div class=""><p>But you were barely clothed and he was far too close. Even dizzy and uncertain, you knew how improper it was.</p></div><div class=""><p>“Are you okay?” he asked when you got your arms beneath yourself for support, squirming out of his hold.</p></div><div class=""><p>“Who are you?” you asked, your voice scratching up and out of your throat. Ouch. Wincing, you swallowed, trying again. “Where am I? What… What happened?” You looked around, finally, taking in the scenery. A beach, bleached by the singular illumination of the moon. Down the stretch of pale sand, you saw a smear of red. A bonfire? Beside you was a trickling stream of water. The dark outline of trees formed an uneven dark line slightly inland. You laid in a nook of sorts, sprawled out on a woven mat beside a rocky shore, waves lapping at the sand a dozen or so feet away.</p></div><div class=""><p>“You don’t remember me?” he asked, calling your attention back to your only companion. He was young with red hair, tousled in a way that was at once messy and attractive. Dark brows and eyes, a sharp nose and jaw. If it weren’t for the stark white of the moon illuminating the world below, you’d never believe there was anything more perfectly white than his skin. There was so much of it, too, his torso completely bare. Despite yourself, his nudity made you flush, reminding you of your own state of undress. Wet and clinging to your skin, your silky white shift was the only thing between your skin and his eyes.</p></div><div class=""><p>“No, I don’t,” you finally responded, trying to cover yourself up somewhat. Embarrassment felt like it should have been a bizarre reaction to everything, but there was a sense of unreality haloing the entire scene. You couldn’t quite tell if you were truly awake, the sluggish haze of sleep still infecting your mind.</p></div><div class=""><p>“Figures,” he said, sounding only a little disappointed. “I’m Sylvain. And before you ask, yes, I did take off your clothes. But don’t be mad! I only did it so you wouldn’t be all sticky with the saltwater. That stuff is no good for delicate and beautiful skin such as yours. It would dull the gorgeous shine of your hair, too, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that.”</p></div></div><div class="">
  <p>“How did I… What happened?” you asked, your discomfort growing more intense at his comments. You tried to surreptitiously scan the area for sight of your clothes, but saw nothing. Perhaps it was in one of the chests wedged in the sand, seemingly the only other man-made objects around. Maybe there was more by the fire...</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You don’t remember?” he asked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I was,” you began uncertainly, trying to unearth the stubborn memories from your sluggish mind, “on the ship. But then… there was a problem?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah, something like that,” Sylvain said, nodding. A moment later, an impish grin crossed his face. “No offense, but you’re a terrible swimmer. You definitely would have drowned if it weren’t for me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You… saved me?” you muttered quietly, distracted as you tried to recall what had happened. You weren’t a good swimmer, but that shouldn’t have been a problem. Why were you swimming? Fear nestled in your gut, different then the panic of confusion.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That’s right. Aren’t you grateful?” Sylvain asked. “You know, I’m willing to hear out any and all acts of thanks you might want to bestow upon me for my gallant actions.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What?” you asked, his words flying over your thoughts just like a breeze over the black waves. Something, everything was terribly wrong. You could feel it in the air. Not like a dream. A nightmare. You had to find the crew. Something bad had happened, of that you were certain. “I have to… I have to go.” With some difficulty, you got to your feet, only swaying slightly. The air kissed your skin, warm and thick with a soft, inescapable humidity.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Uncertainly, you faced the far fire, the only other sign of humanity. It blazed far too brightly for you to see anything around it, just some vague figures. They moved and jumped around. They <em>danced</em>. With a little effort, you could make out a song as it floated on the wind, the sea shanties the sailors had taught to you. Laughter, squealing and delighted. Low, rumbling. High-pitched and feminine. Crystalline voices mixing with the harsh and off-key voices of the men you’d befriended during your voyage. But there was something more, a sound you couldn’t quite make out. Something about the scene that wasn’t quite right.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Slowly, you took a single step towards them.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hey, gorgeous, where do you think you’re going?” Sylvain asked from behind you, his voice casual and warm and complete at odds with the trance-like thrum of the waves, the allure of the song.  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It all clicked, your blood turning to ice as you blinked to clear the orange-red blur from your eyes, your ears straining to hear past the song and the water and the wind. Screaming. You heard screams of pain, carried in the innocent salty sea breeze. The figures around the fire had danced, but in the water, you saw distinct shapes of a ship thrashing on in the waves. In and out of the water like the sharks you feared were the fluid forms of figures, humanoid but wrong. Too long. Too serpentine.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Memories returned to you. Coming out of your cabin in the middle of the night because of the noise. Men shouting at each other, some of them trying to wrestle control of the wheel and others simply pitching over the side of the ship, all of them raving about the song. The beautiful music. You tried to help, tried to pull a young boy away from the edge before he jumped over. His eyes were wild and he hit you, wailing about the beautiful, beautiful singing.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The pain of his backhand wasn’t as crisp as the memory of falling. Terror unparalleled consumed you before you hit the water. It had been so <em>cold</em>, so painful and dark.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You gasped at the intensity of the memory, staggering as it all came back. Something terrible had happened. Oh Lord, oh merciful God. Unsteadily lurching on legs still trembling, you shambled down the beach. You had to hurry, you had to help, you had to-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Stop.” Sylvain’s voice behind you was cold and hard, leaving no room for question. Your feet planted themselves in the sand, the warm waves playfully licking the tips of your toes. Just like that, you remembered. In the water, a helping hand. A voice calling for you. You were a terrible swimmer but to him, you had kicked and paddled and reached for without hesitation. Red hair, swaying in the current. That enticing voice, inhumanly desirable. A tail, strong and covered with scales like a fish. Like a monster, a sea creature that only had a name in the mouths of the sailors when they attempted to scare you with ghost stories.  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Breath held and body stock still, you chanced a look behind yourself. Sylvain, of course, had human legs. It was stupid that you’d questioned that. Muscular and pale just like his torso, only barely covered by the pair of linen drawers he’d dragged on to hang dangerously low on his pelvis. The breath released, your silly fears dismissed. At least, in that regard.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Something’s wrong,” you told him urgently. “The people on the ship… We have to help them.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Woah, calm down,” Sylvain said soothingly, approaching you with his hands held out calmingly, like you were a wild animal he didn’t want to spook. “Don’t worry about all that. We’re gonna have fun together, just you and me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dread pooled heavily in your stomach, the sense of wrongness getting worse with each second. “No,” you said, shaking your head in a confused attempt to clear it, to erase the image of the monster from your mind. A man didn’t need to be a fantasy fabrication of your nightmares to be dangerous. And yet, just like a nightmare, you couldn’t take move your feet. You couldn’t cast off the veil of disorientation.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Don’t worry about those guys,” Sylvain said.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Your chest clenched, at odds with the way you nearly compulsively longed to do as he said. To not worry. To focus on him, only him. You shook your head again, wildly this time, trying to make some sense of it all.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“If you don’t want to help, that’s fine,” you told him, sounding only half convinced. “But I have to-”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“C’mon,” Sylvain said, cutting you off. “I don’t wanna get upset. Not when it’s such a nice night. Guys like them are as common as they come. But a cute girl like you? You’re a rare find.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The screams were dying out, getting lost in the steady whoosh of the waves. Music danced on the wind, as did the smokey scent of fire. Merriment in the air, overwhelming the final dying cries of men already dead, the last skeletal sinking of your ship. The ship had a pretty name, you knew that. But, watching her become broken down into the darkness, you couldn’t remember it. It would be a burial at sea, nameless and hollow. Already forgotten.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What happened?” you asked in a hoarse whisper. All the while unable to take a step away, simply watching as Sylvain came to a stop in front of you, half-naked and confident and unconcerned.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Are you superstitious?” Sylvain asked. You froze up. Silliness was the first thing to come upon you, conviction that he was a monster. A demon. An inhuman creature. Your hand rose to circle the metal cross meant to be hanging at your neck, only to find it empty, your fist closing and bumping against the bare skin. Sylvain laughed, his hands raising again in a non-threatening way. “Not trying to scare you, I was just asking. Sailors are really superstitious. They believe in all sorts of things. Did they ever tell you about the sirens? How they lure men to their deaths?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Are you crazy? Just tell me what you want and I…” You swallowed hard, the thought falling dead and incomplete in your mouth. “Please don’t hurt me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hurt you?” Sylvain looked genuinely offended by the plea. “A cute girl like you? I would never. Not even after you called me crazy. I’ll forgive that one, I know this all might seem a little strange.” He winked. “What I’m trying to get at is that my sisters over there are what the sailors warned you about. Of course, they usually forget about us, but that’s just ‘cause they like the idea of pretty mermaids a lot better than guys like me stealing away their lovely little stowaways.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When your only response was a blank, petrified look, Sylvain sighed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Anyway, if I had to guess what happened over there it’s that a few too many of the ship’s crew didn’t like the song and tried to attack.” Sylvain shrugged. “It’s their own fault. The ones who joined in seem happy enough,” he gestured to the bonfire. It seemed impossibly far away to you now.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You’re lying,” you said. “You’re just trying to… Trying to scare me. What happened to the ship? The men? What did you do?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Me?” Sylvain asked, putting a hand on his chest with another offended widening of his eyes. “I saved you! I don’t have much of an appetite for violence. That’s too much work. I find that pretty girls like you usually come to me with just a little bit of encouragement.” He winked again.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I remember,” you said, blinking fast as you tried to recall those moments of terror as the dark depths of the ocean tried to swallow you whole, your limbs ineffectually thrashing around even as they went numb. “You called to me. Why didn’t you let me die? The sailors said that si… That your kind kill humans. So why?” Tears beaded in your eyes as you tried to work through the feelings, the dread. “Why postpone it?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sylvain rolled his eyes. “See, now that’s just slander. <em>“My kind”</em> doesn’t kill humans unless they attack us first.” His expression softened. “Honestly, I would rather die than see you lost at sea. Just the thought is enough to break my heart. I’m really sensitive to that kind of thing, you know?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“So you’ll let me go?” you asked.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sylvain frowned. “There’s nothing I love more than to invite a cute girl to keep me entertained,” he answered, avoiding the question. “Things can get awfully lonely here on our island. It’s the curse, you know?” He shook his head, averting his eyes with an overacted sadness. “I know, I know, it sounds really sad. Just imagine me here all alone, with nobody to keep me from being lonely.” He peeked upwards, a shy smile gracing his lips. “It’s okay if you want to stay here with me. You wouldn’t want me to keep on suffering by myself, would you?”  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What if I want to go?” you asked, your voice thin.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sylvain looked heartbroken. “Do you? Really? You’re a sweet girl, I can tell that just from looking at you. And I know you’ve had a rough night. So let’s go sit down. I’d love to get to know you better.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He held out his hand for you to take, his eyes inviting you in, his voice awfully compelling. You cast a glance at the fire down the beach. The song lilted down through the breeze. It was faint, beautiful. It didn’t call to you, but there was a certain allure. It asked you to be at ease, to let it all go. When you looked down, your hand was in his. Had you done that? Sylvain smiled.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Come on,” he said, leading back to the nook where you’d woken up. Turning your back on the ship. To the fire. “Make yourself comfortable,” Sylvain said when you returned to the mat, gesturing. Awkwardly, you sat down, watching him warily as he dropped into an immediate lounging position. “You don’t look very comfortable,” he noted.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m fine,” you said.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Really? You look tense. Maybe I can help with that?” he asked, creeping towards you. “Generally, I find that the less clothes I’m wearing the more comfortable I am.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You stiffened as he reached for the hem of your shift, the only article of clothing you had to keep yourself safe from his lechery. “I thought… I thought we were going to get to know each other!” you protested, trying to fight him from pulling it up and exposing you, your heart pounding and fear freezing in your gut.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sylvain paused, cocking his head. “We are. I plan on getting to know you <em>very</em> well.” Using your distraction as an advantage, he pulled your shift off and cast it aside, dragging his eyes down your naked figure in a way so overtly lustful it made your skin burn, grabbing your hands to keep you from trying to cover yourself. Even though you couldn’t see any strain in his body, he effortlessly kept you from struggling out of his grasp. “Where should we start, I wonder,” he mused, licking his lips. “Maybe with a kiss? Or, wait, I’ve got it.” He met your eyes, a dreamy expression of anticipation and excitement crossing his face. “Lay back and open your legs for me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What?” you breathed.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You heard me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Yes, you had. And, going against everything in you that screamed to stop, you complied.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sylvain grinned, his teeth shining in the moonlight. “You’d think I’d get bored of it after all this time,” he said, “but I gotta admit that it really does something to me when cute girls like you are so obedient for me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You squirmed, avoiding his gaze at all costs while shame and humiliation blazed beneath your skin. Innocent to the reality of such debauchery as you were, you still knew what he had in mind as he looked at you like that. What was going to happen to you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sylvain was going to ruin you. A monster. A demon. A liar, maybe. It didn’t matter if he was a man or a beast.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Now… What to do, what to do?” he mused softly, considering you for a moment, his gaze roaming over your bare form laid prone beneath him with a distinctly hungry expression. Eventually, his eyes settled on your lips, then your eyes. “Let’s start there and work our way down, yeah?” He asked. Not waiting for any confirmation, Sylvain dropped to his elbows above you, hovering but not quite touching. So close that you could smell him, feel the coolness radiating off his skin. “Relax for me, baby. I know you want this, even if you’re too scared to say it.”  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No,” you hissed, unable to raise your voice too loud for fear of it breaking with suppressed tears. “I’ve never-” You shook your head, trying to get out of his grasp. “No!” you pushed him with arms you knew were useless against his strength, fear thickening in your chest as it truly hit you how powerless you were.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Much to your surprise, Sylvain actually sat up, crouching between your legs. His eyes were round, surprised. "Wait, you're a virgin?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I’m unmarried,” you replied, trying to cover yourself awkwardly despite your inability to change positions.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Not what I asked —no, don’t move,” Sylvain told you. Which, of course, made you fall still. You whined. He ignored it, looking at you contemplatively. “But you've experimented with touching yourself, right? Don't tell me you've <em>never</em> explored, even a little.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I have,” you said, the truth pulled from you whether you wanted to give it or not. Shame followed the admission, disgust at yourself for doing such things. Pleasure was meant to be shared between a married couple. Or, maybe, not felt at all.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>As if deaf to your feelings, Sylvain’s eyes were bright, his lips parted as if he’d just made the most exhilarating discovery. “Go ahead, then. Show me."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Show you?” you asked, your voice almost inaudible.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yeah, you know. Show me how you touch yourself,” he said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. You wanted to scream. You wanted to fight, to thrash around and get up to run away.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But, traitorously, your hand slipped between the legs you couldn't close. Even as you internally screamed at yourself to stop, your fingertips dutifully found your clit.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Hold on, just like that?” Sylvain asked, his head tilting with the question. “You don’t, I don’t know, try to get yourself in the mood a little?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I don’t do this to please other people,” you told him tersely, tears of humiliation pricking at the corners of your eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No of course not,” Sylvain said quickly, a bizarre attempt to stop you from getting mad at him. As if your anger were the worst reaction. “Don’t get all worked up, it’s okay just like this! Quick and dirty. I like it. Please, continue.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You didn’t want to. God only knew you didn’t.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>But you did anyway.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Your head fell back as you tried to ease your body into pleasure, touching yourself in a way you knew was perverse and forbidden and shameful. But it felt good. Despite everything you’d wish, heat pooled into your core, your body winding up in preparation for the orgasm you knew you’d bring yourself to. Keeping your eyes closed, you used your other hand to trace upwards, to toy with one of your nipples. Usually, you’d imagine it to be someone doing it for you. Now you could only imagine Sylvain watching you, his eyes hungry and body coiled tight like a predator waiting to ambush his prey.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It was sickening.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>To be taken against your will was one thing, but to that, you could claim innocence. But this? Touching yourself for the eyes of a stranger? To be taking pleasure in the act? You cried even as you flushed and stifled soft moans, hating it. Unable to stop. Unable to keep yourself from giving in to the sensations, ignoring the situation and everything so utterly wrong with it to reach for that high.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Why?" you finally asked, as if to distract yourself from getting off. Or to distract him. "Why don't you..?"</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What, do you want me to do something?” Sylvain asked in return. “Just say the word, beautiful, and I'm yours."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I don’t want… Please stop this,” you begged, still going on, still working yourself up.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"I'm not doing anything," he said innocently.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Of that you were more than aware, your body growing ever more tense as it strived to orgasm. Quick and dirty, he said. Of course it was, how else could you possibly hope to steal such illicit pleasure from your own body? Defile it, destroy yourself. Disgusting, delicious, indecent.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Don’t get me wrong, I'd love to touch you right now,” Sylvain said offhandedly. “I bet you feel so good. So soft and warm. I don't mind a bit of maturity, but cute girls like you are my favorite. I want you to feel comfortable with me, to get to know each other a little better before doing anything. And besides, there's nothing quite like a girl putting on a show like this. If you knew how adorable you looked right now, I’m sure you’d… Well, ah, nevermind."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You whined, tuning the words out in favor of the simple sound of them. His voice pulsed with something alive and hot, a beat you could feel in your chest, beneath your fingers, something that shot straight into your core as you grew a little bolder, a little less patient. You chased that feeling desperately, deliriously, knowing that you’d only find relief once it was over, you’d only rest when you were finished. Your heels dug into the ground, your hips tilting upwards to provide a better angle. A sound built in your throat. It wasn’t dramatic or intense, but it was a lot. It was <em>good</em>. It was-</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Come for me, gorgeous, let me see."</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>The words you muttered would have gotten you slapped under any other circumstances. The sailors had been a bad influence on you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You were still on that high, eyes squeezed shut tight and fingers rubbing hard to work you through the orgasm, when he was on top of you, knocking your hand aside as he lined up his cock with your spasming hole. You wet enough to make it work, confused and pliant and disoriented, but Sylvain wasn't gentle as he thrust himself into you. No, the sound that he made was something low and violent and when you opened your eyes in shock and pain there was nothing soft or loving in his eyes, just raw desire and hot need.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Pulled so abruptly from the trance, you lashed out, trying to get him off. To make him move. To make it stop hurting as he worked his cock into you inch by agonizing inch. He didn’t even react, as if your attempts were nothing to him. One of his hands held your hips pinned, the other keeping his body braced above you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Come on, baby, don't be like that," Sylvain said, his voice strained, a smile you could almost be called fond on his lips.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You're hurting me," you whined, your struggles becoming weaker as the pain got worse, your body going still in something like defense.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Just relax, gorgeous, I'll take care of you.” You didn’t want that. But you relaxed anyway, just like he said. It was easier that way, in any case. Not that it did much to make the stretch more bearable. He was cleaving you apart, of that you were certain. You’d look down and find nothing but wreckage between your legs. “So good,” he said in a strained voice. “So <em>tight</em>. Usually, the sailors know better than to bring pretty girls along with them through these parts. Must have been in some hurry to risk it.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You whimpered.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No, don’t cry, beautiful. I hate seeing girls cry,” he said, adjusting his hips for an easier angle. This hurt, too, the shallow movements stretching your inner walls in a way that felt unspeakably wrong. Unnatural. “It’s not your fault, you didn’t know,” Sylvain continued, seemingly unconcerned about if you were listening or not. Speaking to speak, to let you hear his voice. Worse, it worked. His voice got into your head, your body, making you try and cooperate with the position. “Besides, it’s better this way. No human guy is gonna love you like I do. See, I’ve got some experience. I know what you need.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He pulled out some to allow for another shallow thrust that pushed him right back to the hilt, stuffing you full, too full. Splitting you at the seams. Sylvain groaned and that did something, too, reignited some of the sparks of pleasure from your earlier orgasm. “So good for me, baby.” He said under his breath. When he repeated the motion of rocking his hips, you didn’t cry out. With each pass you were getting used to it, your body yielding to his.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When you moaned, he paused, a smile lighting up his face. “Yeah, you like that?” he asked, thrusting into you at the same angle, his cock rubbing against a particularly sensitive part of your fluttering inner walls. This time, without the surprise, you were able to keep your lips shut tight. That didn’t stop him. Now that he’d found something that made you react, Sylvain only sped up. It was too much for you to handle. The pain was still there, but so was something else. Of course, that was the point. What he’d promised. You couldn’t help the sounds, the pitiful moans he stole from your lips. “Touching yourself for a stranger, getting off on being fucked out of wedlock... Maybe you’re not the lady I thought you were,” he said. This time, you sobbed. But it was too much of a moan to be as sad as you felt it should be. Simply pathetic. “That’s fine,” Sylvain soothed. “Actually, it’s good. I like it when prim girls like you turn out to be filthy on the inside. It’s much more interesting for me.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Stop,” you begged, shaking your head as more tears of humiliation squeezed out from your eyes. Despite your denial, you felt the way your hips rocked against his, your legs remaining spread for him to do what he wanted. Sylvain laughed a breathless little laugh, an edge of pleasure humming low in his chest. It tightened the coil in your core, the need for more, to get off again. The primal urge that wanted you to chase the pleasure until it overwhelmed you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sometimes girls can’t come during the first time, their bodies don’t know how to make sense of everything, I guess,” Sylvain told you, his voice punctuated with his heavy breaths. “But I bet you can, right?”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No,” you responded, denying him out of disgust for his words more than anything. “I-I can’t, I can’t.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I guess we’ll see, huh? I mean, you already showed me what you like…” His hand slipped down between your bodies. The first touch of his fingers to your clit made you jerk beneath him violently, a panicked, high-pitched cry falling from your mouth. “I knew it,” he said. You didn’t dare open your eyes to check, but you had a gut feeling that he was grinning.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sylvain didn’t let up after that, either in the way he slammed into you with each rhythmic thrust or the way he toyed with your clit. Everything was raw sensation. Sweat and humidity coating your skin with a thin layer of sweat which cooled quickly with the passing breeze, the steady roar of the ocean, the lewd slap of skin meeting skin, his skin’s smell of ocean salt of musky masculine sweat, the burning heat of arousal, the pleasure as it built and built inside of you, your muscles straining with the intensity of it, your body pulling taut like a sail catching wind. Your pussy tightened around him, forgiving the pain he’d caused as you sought more, your hips angling so you could feel him against that particular spot.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sylvain swore in a tongue you didn’t recognize as anything other than profanity, his voice breaking the syllables apart in his need. A second later, he amended it in a rough, intoxicatingly tempting tone, “Yeah, that’s right, baby… I <em>knew</em> that you’d come for me.”  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Like before, Sylvain surprised you as you came, his lips pressing to yours with unrestrained hunger as he worked you through your orgasm uninterrupted, swallowing down your moans and cries as his tongue slipped past the seam of your lips. He tasted like the water when you thought you were drowning, his mouth inhumanly cold. Your hands clawed and grasped at his back, feeling the way the muscles worked beneath his skin. It felt like it lasted too long, your body wringing itself out for every drop of pleasure as you shook apart beneath him, that coil of heat bursting and filling you with bliss. Nothing like when you were alone in the dead of night with sweat beading on your skin and your hand shoved artlessly between your legs. This was intense and overwhelming, your entire body getting lost in it. In him.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>When he was sure you were down from that high, his hand left your clit to wrap around your neck. No time to let you breathe, to make sense of the scattered sparks of sensation and stimulation. You realized a second later that the pace you’d deemed as punishing had actually been kind, for your benefit. At least, in comparison to this.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sylvain had spoken of love, promised to take care of you, but when your eyes fluttered open in shock, your mind struggling to clear itself of the confusing chiffon veil of lust, all you saw was a creature desperately using you to satiate himself. He caught your eye, taking in your expression that must have been an amusing mixture of pleasure and fear, your lips parted as you struggled to catch a breath beneath the obstruction of his hand, and his gaze flashed with hunger, with raw desire. His lips found yours again, taking away the little amount of breath you were able to take in as he dominated the kiss. You tried to push him, to make your displeasure known, but the hand not on your throat knocked it away, pinning it down with a strength you couldn’t hope to match.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>You whined at the overstimulation, at the pain of how rough he was being, but he stole those sounds from you. Sylvain kissed you until your head was fuzzy enough to dull the sensations, a strangely pleasurable numbness spreading throughout your body as you submitted to him. He was close to coming, his body coiling and tensing above yours, his hips slamming against yours in a desperate, agonizingly quick rhythm. You could feel the way he groaned, his chest vibrating against you, his voice twisting inside your dizzy head and dazing you further.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>In a vague way, you know what was generally expected to happen when a man came. You knew how babies were made, at least in the strictly scientifically technical terms. What you didn’t expect was the piercing bite of his cock driving even deeper into you, the shaft growing somehow thicker as he breached a divide you knew wasn’t meant to be breached. If you weren’t so oxygen deprived, so numb and heavy, it might have hurt. As it was, all you felt was the enormous <em>pressure</em>. There was a weight to his cum that didn’t feel natural, like you could distinctly feel it as he filled you. Still thrusting, driving deep, his mouth locked against yours and hand so tightly clasped around your neck you were certain you’d have bruises, you felt the final spray of liquid coat your insides. This was different, his thrusts slowing and becoming shallow, the impossible thickness softening.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He couldn’t have possibly heard that last whimper you made, but you knew, with a degree of shame you shouldn’t have been allowed to feel anymore, that it was one of overworked pleasure, your bodies final submission to what he had forced upon you.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Then, finally falling victim to the lack of oxygen and overstimulation, you blacked out.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Dark unreality shrouded everything into nothingness.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Too fast, the world flooded back in with a violence so piercing that <em>hurt</em>. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but to be wrenched back into reality was jarring in a way that stretched the moment into decades. Gasping, your chest heaving as you desperately worked to get air into your deprived lungs, you tried to make sense of everything.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Sylvain was no longer on top of you, having rolled over to your side, his breathing equally heavy and cheeks stained red. He looked sheepish, propping himself on his elbow and pushing a lock of hair from your eyes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sorry, that was a bit much,” he said. Eyes flicking down between your legs, reminding you of the soreness, he frowned. The pain was shocking, but so was the decidedly abnormal bulge inflating the soft part of your lower tummy. You’d know he’d cum a <em>lot</em>, but certainly not that much, right? That wasn’t possible. Horrified, you pressed on it, letting out a soft whimper at the feeling of thick liquid coming out of your abused pussy, the unnatural sensation of decidedly solid shapes adjusting themselves within you in response to your prodding.  “Normally I wouldn’t do this with a human girl, I dunno what came over me,” Sylvain said. His smile returned, bright and sweet, and his hand covered yours. So cold, like the touch of a dead man. “Guess you’re just special, huh?”  </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>